I Almost Chickened Out of Hiking Ben Nevis

I almost chickened out of hiking Ben Nevis... twice. Reaching the top of the highest peak in the UK was a must-do on my backpacking adventure around Scotland. As a first time mountain trekker the thought of heading up Ben Nevis alone was rather intimidating. The plan was to stick to the tourist trail, which I’m sure is mocked by more advanced hikers. Someone assured me that the trail is like walking in a single file line of tourists, all the way to the top. Not exactly my idea of the perfect climb, in fact I vividly remember that time in grade two when I was given detention for forgetting to walk in a single file line. But this was good news if I were to accidentally twist my ankle or fall off the side of the mountain.



I spoke to many people about heading up the Ben. One Scottish local who had made the climb several times, advised me to arrive in Fort William the day before, get a good night sleep and then wake up early to make the hike. He recommended staying at the Youth Hostel located at the very bottom of the Ben. When I called to book the hostel, they were completely full for the weekend. In fact all the hostels in Fort William were full.

I’m a firm believer in the theory that everything happens for a reason. After spending a beautiful week in the Outer Hebrides, I decided to head back to mainland Scotland. My destination was Oban, a lovely town on the west coast. I would spend a night in Oban and decide where to go from there. Little did I know that Ben Nevis was not completely out of the picture.

It was at the hostel in Oban where I met Monika, an Aussie who was living in the UK. We started talking about our plans for the next day, and I mentioned Ben Nevis. Monika was immediately interested when I explained that it is the highest peak in the UK. We decided to get up early and drive to Fort William, eager to face the challenge of conquering the Ben.

After a light breakfast in Oban, we arrived in Fort William around 11:00 am to find the parking lot packed. There was an event taking place, eleven teams would be heading up the Ben to raise money for a charity. Monika and I were tempted to skip Ben Nevis and hang around for the BBQ. Instead, we headed to the information centre for a map and some much needed guidance. The guy behind the counter warned, “It’s Saturday so the Ben is busy. I recommend another trail that’s more relaxing.” He suggested we hike along Glen Nevis, a four hour trail with beautiful scenery of the woods and a waterfall.



We walked out the information centre and debated. Trail that leads to a sanctuary or trail that leads to possible death. I voted possible death.



An average of 1 in 10 days is clear on the summit of Ben Nevis. It just so happens that the sun was shining brightly with few dark clouds in the sky. I knew I would regret chickening out on the challenge... again. So we stocked up on Snickers, candy, some water and a protein bar. The guide recommended we come prepared with a sweater and a waterproof jacket. Hiking boots are of course the other necessity, unless you are Monika. I predicted the pair of runners on her feet would be totalled by the end of the climb. It turns out these runners magically survived the rough terrain.




In my mind, reaching the top of Ben Nevis would be the toughest physical challenge I have ever endured. It definitely was, but what I did not expect was that it would be a challenge almost anyone can accomplish. Nuns dressed in sandals, children under ten, and elders in their eighties. Even dogs were spotted heading up the Ben. An estimated 100,000 people ascend to the summit each year.





As the Ben got steeper, the trail became rockier and the view became more and more breathe taking – not just due to the thin air. Each time I looked back over the stretch of forest, majestic highlands, and the mist rising over the lochs, the sense of beauty wowed me. We even got a great view of a waterfall tumbling down the side of the Ben.






Monika and I stopped for many photo opportunities. We picked a nice spot, midway up to relax and munch on rice pudding and chocolate. Of course, in Scotland you can’t stop for a picnic without being offered a swig of whisky by some locals. The rest was much needed, we had surpassed the section of the trail titled, "The Red-Burn" and encountered, "Five Finger Gully" the rockiest bit of path that zigzags to the top.

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The average amount of time it’s supposed to take to ascend Ben Nevis is five hours. It takes three hours to descend. Monika and I reached the top in four and half hours. We spent half an hour on the plateau, taking photos of the proud moment. We found the most picturesque place facing the north, away from the tourists, to quietly take it all in. Great photo opportunities included standing on the official highest point - a large stone, cairn. Posing in front of an emergency shelter that was built on top of the abandoned ruins of a meteorological observatory. Or boldly standing at the edge of a cliff – after all it’s only a 1,344 metre drop.



Despite the epic view on a clear day, it was hard to stand still for long. The wind nearly knocked us over while posing for pictures. The sub-Arctic climate meant that the weather could turn unexpectedly and snow on us. We began our hike wearing t-shirts and gradually found ourselves adding our sweaters by the time we reached the top.





As we stood on the summit feeling a sense of accomplishment, I couldn't help but ponder this – how on earth is the record for reaching the top 1 hour, 25 minutes and 34 seconds? Secondly, how did a man single handily manage to push a piano to the top? My legs of steel were beginning to feel a lot like jello, a good sign that it was time to descend.




I was in no rush to get to the bottom; in fact I always find it easier to ascend rather than descend. The rocky trail makes slipping easy. Take it from the woman we passed who had fell and twisted her ankle, not too far from the top. Then there was the elderly man behind us. The man slipped and proceeded to roll off the trail, down the Ben. Luckily, he caught himself in the grass and was okay.


When we reached the bottom, night had fallen and my feet were in massive pain. I wobbled back to the parking lot and crawled into the car. Back in Oban, we treated ourselves to some fish and chips, which I devoured in mere seconds. After rightfully bragging about our experience to the other backpackers, we passed out in our bunks. The next day, my legs were killing me, a pain that would be summoned anytime I tackled the hills of Edinburgh for days that followed. Soon I’ll be conquering Mount Everest.